White Lies
by Kopy.Kunoichi
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night...and Gwendal was having a rather restless sleep. But then again, he always did on nights like this. Short and cute! G/A R&R peoples! *Follow-up chapter posted as per request* :
1. White Lies

** – Hey guys…I'm trying my hand at a new one here. I don't watch much Kyo Kara Maoh, but I thought that this would be a cute pairing…especially since Gwendal seems to be the straightest of all the guys. lol. So yeah, R&R my friends! **

**White Lies**

Gwendal rolled over on his back, twisting the sheets around his legs. He grumbled softly, rearranging the offending covers. A steady rain pattered against the window pane behind him, and he could just barely hear the distant thunder rolling in. He sighed, knowing what that meant. He reached over to push the knitted plush toys that usually shared his bed with him into a basket beside his bed. He fluffed the pillow next to him – knowing full well it wouldn't be used at all. He briefly considered putting on a shirt – but decided he'd be too warm if he did that. Finally satisfied, he stretched back out, throwing his right arm above his head, absentmindedly twisting at a strand of his long hair as he fell back asleep.

He was almost dreaming when the little creak of the hidden passageway door brought him back to wakefulness. He listened to the pitter patter of bare feet padding across the floor towards him. He felt the bed shift under added weight and the blankets move as something burrowed under them. Finally, a slender trembling body scooted up next to his, pressing as close to him as it could. Her head rested on his wide chest, tickling his skin with her quick, shallow breaths. He brought his arm down around her waist, holding her to him and rubbing his thumb across the dip above her hip.

"Shh, I'm right here," he whispered, instinctively knowing what she needed to hear.

After all, they had begun this ritual when they were small children. She had always been afraid of thunder storms, and since they were young she'd slept in his bed during them to calm her fears. When it came to her, Gwendal was a pushover, and she knew it. He didn't really mind though. He'd never admit it out loud, but sometimes it was nice to feel her soft body next to his, relying on him to protect her. That's what he did best after all…protect people. It was his job and he loved it. Sometimes it stressed him out – but that's why he had her. And when _she _was the object of his stress – he knit…which she taught him how to do in the first place. She whimpered a little when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. He offered a kiss to the top of her head, whispering little nothings to calm her down. She finally relaxed, slipping a leg between his to get comfortable and rubbing her cheek against his chest like a kitten. Her breathing slowed finally as she fell asleep, sheltered from the storm raging outside.

"_I wonder if you'll ever outgrow this Anissina," _he thought to himself.

He fell back asleep himself, his hands tangled in her long magenta locks.

The next morning, Gwendal awoke to his name being called softly. He opened his eyes to find his friend _straddling _him in a nightgown.

"Anissina," he growled, his voice even more gravelly from sleep. "What are you doing?"

"You overslept, lazy bones," she accused, throwing a pillow at him.

Even though he was still groggy, he easily batted it away, scowling up at her. Her thin silk gown made it hard to keep that scowl plastered to his face though. Shaking his head, he threw her off him roughly. She landed next to him with a bounce, yelping at his action.

"You're welcome, you grump."

He cursed under his breath when he realized just how late it was.

"Get out, I need to dress."

"I think you should go to work like that," she teased, gesturing to his sleep pants.

"You know Ani…if you weren't such a baby about the storms, I wouldn't be late for work."

"Hey, it's not my fault you sleep better when I'm in bed with you," she shot back.

He had nothing to say to that, because he knew she was right…and so did she. She sauntered over to him in that damn…thing…she was wearing – he was seriously considered issuing an order banning the use of silk for sleep attire. She approached him, running one tantalizing fingernail down his chest.

"I don't see what the big deal is Gwen, it's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear before," she mewed.

"Not since we were kids, you haven't," he said, attempting to back up and get his clothes.

She followed his movements step for step, her hand still hovering above his skin, "Incorrect. I have in fact seen you completely naked three times since then."

He balked, "What!?"

"Well, you were unconscious for two of those times and unaware of my presence for the third," she explained.

"I don't even want to know," he sighed, resigning himself to defeat.

He finally decided that there was no point in being more late than he already was, so he discarded his sleep attire and donned his uniform quickly. Anissina, for all her fuss, wasn't even paying attention. She was playing with one of his knit kittens. He ran a brush through his hair then attempted to tie it. His ribbon snapped though, eliciting a grunt of frustration from him. Anissina grabbed another ribbon from his drawer and tied it up herself. Mumbling a 'thanks', he strapped his sword to his side and made for the door. He stopped before opening it, turning to her with a softer look in his dark blue eyes.

"Thank you for waking me up Ani," he hesitated a moment before adding, "Gunther says it is supposed to thunder storm intermittently for two days…so just leave your nightgown in my dresser if you like. But you can't take over my bathroom again," he warned.

She grinned at him, "I won't, I promise. Just get to your office before Gunther comes looking for you. I'll see you later."

"Okay…'til then," he mumbled, putting on his 'serious' face and leaving her.

She smiled after him…silly Gwendal. He'd never know her secret unless she told him. Maybe she would tell him soon. He might be just about ready to know that she hadn't been afraid of lightning, thunder, storms, or anything of the kind since she was a teenager. She giggled to herself. So many decades had passed and he still hadn't figured it out. Now she only hoped that the thickheaded man would figure out the implications once she told him. Oh well, she supposed she could spell it out for him – she did enjoy torturing the man. Speaking of torture, she needed to work on her latest invention today. With any luck, she'd have it finished by lunch time and she could test it out on him in a few hours! With that goal in mind, she set off to her rooms to dress and get ready. In her haste, she used his regular door instead of the hidden passageway though.

Elsewhere, three maids were reconsidering their bets about who would end up with the irritable Gwendal Von Voltaire...

Fin


	2. And The Truth Will Set You Free

** - Hey guys...okay, so due to popular demand I have written a second chapter. Alright, fine...one person asked, but I really wanted to write a follow up anyway after I actually finished the first one. So here ya go...the happy ending we've all been waiting for. And cheese...so much cheese.**

**White Lies**

**Chapter 2: And The Truth Will Set You Free**

Gwendal was not having a great day. First of all, when he got to his office, Gunther was practically stroking out because he was twenty minutes late. He calmly, if not a little gruffly, explained that he had simply overslept. The silver-haired man proceeded to launch into a dramatic story of how Yuri had managed to get into some minor scrape over in the stables. He was fine and no real damage was done – so Gwendal failed to see what the problem was. Apparently, the boy had gotten a tiny scratch on his "perfect beautiful young face" – heaven forbid. Sometimes he thought that his castle had more drama than an all girls finishing school.

He had a load of paperwork to do that day, as he had neglected it to personally oversee a border security meeting the previous day. He was lucky to have beaten the storm home. The storm. Damn thunderstorms. He blamed them for his current dilemma – the second source of his stress. He could not seem to get the mental image of Anissina in that accursed silk gown out of his head all day. It was like she was haunting him. He admitted to himself that he cared for her very much – she was his best friend after all. They had been through so much together. When her family had tried to force her into an arranged marriage, it was he who had rescued her. They really were inseparable. And yet she was independent and strong-willed; she relied on no one. Except during thunderstorms – the only time she really turned to him for protection. Something about the way she always went to _him _made him feel good on the inside. She needed him, and if he was honest with himself, he craved her company just as much. And today, Gwendal _was _being honest. He mulled over his relationship with Anissina, looking at it from different perspectives. Could it be that he had grown to care for her as more than a friend? Did he desire her for himself? It was such an odd question, and one that should not be difficult to answer. He of course thought she was beautiful – but he had never before caught himself stealing prolonged glances at her. But then, had he not memorized every contour of her body? Did he not look forward to the change in weather when spring brought in the thunderstorms? He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He really didn't have time to think about this sort of thing – he had a country to run.

Anissina chose that precise moment to burst into his office, a familiar glint in her azure eyes. Every instinct told him to run – but his body remained rooted to the spot.

"Gwendal! You'll never guess what has happened. I am about to make history with my latest invention! And you're going to help!" she chirped.

"Anissina, I can't tell you how sorry I am," he began, attempting the disappointed-refusal-method. "But I have affairs that I simply can't neglect this morning. Gunther will have to oblige you."

"_Sorry old friend."_

"Impossible, you're the only one who can do it, as Gunther is having severe stomach pains this morning. He did however, take the liberty of clearing your lunch schedule so you could assist me."

"_So I'm to be the sacrificial lamb after all?"_

"Oh, that was…kind of him."

"Come on, I'm anxious to see the effects of this one," she prompted, crossing the room to his desk and pulling at his arm.

He sighed, knowing full well that this battle was lost. He stood up and followed her to the lower levels of the castle, to where her expansive lab resided. To the unsuspecting public, it was a vast room filled with strange and wondrous scientific tools and inventions. To him – it was a house of horrors. She led him to a raised pedestal on which sat a cube-shaped device about 3x3 square feet. His eyes automatically searched for a lever or crank with which to operate the contraption. Naturally, there was a small crank on the side.

"So…what does it do?" he asked hesitantly.

"I thought you'd never ask! It uses tiny high frequency waves to heat food! It will revolutionize food preparation – cutting the time of the cooking process in half! I call it the High Frequency Food Preparation Unit…or HFFPU for short."

"_Okay, that doesn't sound so bad…if it works."_

He approached the device, positioning himself next to the crank as she opened it and placed a bowl of finely grated cheese into it. Why anyone would want to heat up cheese, he'd never know.

"Okay Gwendal, go for it," she prompted, taking up position at the front of her "HFFPU" for observation.

He dutifully began turning the crank, finding it much less stiff than those of her previous inventions. The machine emitted a high pitched whining noise which seemed to grow louder as he continued.

"Is it supposed to sound like that?" he asked warily.

"I don't know, this is the first test run. But the cheese is beginning to melt."

"It's getting hot over here," he observed, as he felt the heat radiating off the device.

"Hmm, I'll improve the ventilation later; for now, keep cranking."

He obeyed, but was becoming increasingly worried as the machine continued to whine louder. Suddenly, it began shaking violently, and scalding steam poured out the small vents at the back of the unit.

"Anissina! Look out!" he shouted.

He leapt away from the machine, shielding her body with his own. With a loud CRACK the heating compartment blew open, spraying hot cheese everywhere. It landed mostly on his clothes, though some got in his hair. Thankfully, his thick uniform shielded his skin was the scalding dairy product. He looked down at Anissina, who was curled up beneath him, her eyes wide.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she breathed. "Thank you Gwendal."

"Of course," he said, getting to his feet and gently pulling her up. He turned to look at the fried machine, "At least you don't have to destroy it yourself," he pointed out.

"That's true. Oh well, it almost worked, at least it did heat the cheese," she said, pulling some out of his hair.

"Ouch," he protested when some of his hair came out with the cheese.

"Hm, let's see if we can get you cleaned up," she said, leading him to a large sink basin with a hose attached to the nozzle. "Why don't you take your jacket off, it's covered in cheese."

He did, removing his undershirt as well because he didn't want to get it wet when he rinsed out his hair.

"Here, hold your head over the sink, I'll get this out for you," she offered, placing a cool hand on his back between his shoulder blades. He involuntarily shivered at her touch, reaching back to untie his hair. He leaned over the edge of the sink, his long hair falling around his face. Anissina turned the water on to a pleasant warm temperature, using the hose to rinse his hair thoroughly. She put a sweet smelling shampoo in his hair, using her long fingers to work it in, massaging his scalp. It felt so good, he almost purred with pleasure. She rinsed the lather out, then put some other glossy stuff in his hair, working that in as well. She ran her fingers from his hair-line back to the ends of his hair, then rubbed behind his ears in little circles. He couldn't resist making a low contented sound in the back of his throat, earning him a giggle from her.

"I thought a good head massage might make up for getting cheese on your jacket," she said. "I didn't think you'd enjoy it _that _much though.

"It feels…nice. It's relaxing," he responded.

"Maybe next time you get stressed out, you should just have me do this instead of resorting to knitting," she suggested.

The thought of her coming to him and rubbing away all the worries was certainly appealing – more so than he'd admit to himself. All the same… "Maybe," he dared to whisper.

"Alright, let me find a towel – hold tight."

He leaned over the sink on his forearms, stretching out one of his legs behind him. He caught himself daydreaming about the night to come – hoping the thunder would return. He was abruptly brought out of his reverie by a towel snapping against his butt. He yelped, turning on her quickly – his soaking hair flying wildly about. She squealed when he made a grab for the towel, for once letting his guard down and grinning at her. She spun away from him, but he was faster than he looked and cornered her against a wall. She used her back as a shield, but he reached both arms around her, trapping the towel – and her arms – against her body. She used the wall as leverage, pushing against him. But he was far too powerful to be bested by such a simple method. He backed up, pulling her with him and spinning around rapidly. She laughed loudly as he whipped them around, enjoying the feeling of just being able to play with him again. They always had such fun as children, but Gwendal had grown serious as an adult. He didn't really have a choice in the matter though – he did run the country after all. Perhaps as Yuri grew and matured, he would be able to relieve some of the pressure from Gwen's shoulders. He finally slowed down, setting her on the ground. She turned toward him, placing her hands on his forearms to steady her spinning vision. She rested her head on his chest, still breathing hard from their antics. His hands were on her sides as he took long deep breaths, his heart pounding beneath her ear.

"Gwendal?" she asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"Let's not forget to play with each other sometimes, okay?"

"You're right, it has been a long time since we let ourselves just laugh and…have fun," the words themselves sounded strange on his lips.

She slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He returned the embrace, enjoying their closeness. After a moment, she pulled back, looking up at him and grinning.

"I think we had better dry that hair of yours, or people will wonder what we've been up to down here."

"Good point; not that they're not used to strange things happening in this room."

"Yeah, but you usually come back covered in grime, not soaking wet."

"That's because you _blow me up _on a regular basis. It's a miracle I have all my appendages."

"Oh come now Gwen – your appendages have always been safe with me," she said in a sly tone of voice.

He blinked rapidly as she moved behind him to dry his hair. _"Was that innuendo? Was she…hinting something to me?"_

Best not to read into things. He let her towel dry his hair and pull it back into a loose ponytail. They went back to the main level of the castle, ignoring the inquisitive glances directed at Gwendal in his undershirt.

"I'm going to change, I'll meet you and the others for lunch," he stated, turning down the hall that led to his chambers.

The rest of the day passed by in an uneventful manner. Lunch and supper came and went. Gwendal stayed up late doing his paperwork – finally finishing at about eleven. Gunther came by to wish him goodnight and informed him that thankfully the storms had swung south and would miss them - leaving them with dry roads for an excursion tomorrow. Gwendal resisted the urge to grind his teeth; instead, he bid his friend goodnight. Signing the last document, he wearily got up from his seat and trudged to his room. He showered quickly, then crawled into bed, disappointment soon pulling him into sleep. Before he had a chance to dream though, he felt the blankets shift and a familiar body slide in next to him. He had been lying on his stomach, but he immediately rolled on his side to draw her into his arms. She stretched out, sliding an arm around his waist. Something was different tonight – she did not seem to be afraid or seeking comfort. He felt her nails gently scratching his back in small circles, causing his muscles to tense and then loosen. Her breath was hot on his bare chest, but she said nothing.

He spoke into her thick hair, his voice distinctly lower – even to his own ears, "I did not hear the thunder."

"There was none," she said quietly, letting that sink in.

He frowned, confused, "Were you anticipating it?"

"No."

He pulled back a bit, though his arms still held her against him. He searched her face in the dark, the moonlight illuminating his uncertain expression. Her features held a look foreign to him – it was as if she were pleading to him for something he did not know.

"What is it, Ani?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"There's something you should probably know," she said, gathering her courage.

"What is that?"

"I haven't been afraid of thunderstorms for a very long time," she said, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

His confusion deepened for a moment, and then the answer hit him like a horse kick to the face. His eyes widened as he tried to speak, but nothing besides a tiny noise escaped him. She had used the thunderstorms as an excuse to share his bed – only wanting to be close to him. All those night of waiting for the weather to change, and she had been biding her time as well. The whole thing was ludicrous…laughable even. It took him a moment to realize he _was _laughing. Now it was Anissina's turn to look completely surprised as Gwendal's chest rumbled in that deep chuckle of his.

"Did I miss something?" she asked.

"I was just thinking – you could have just told me before and saved us both some grief."

"You mean – you feel the same way?" she asked, her eyes dancing in the moonlight.

In that moment, Gwendal knew he could never love anyone as much as he loved this woman here in his arms. He turned them both over, so that her head was rested on his arm as his other hand reached up to catch her chin between his long fingers. His head dipped down, resting against her, their noses just touching.

"Yes," he whispered before capturing her lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

All her plans, plots, and schemes of how to counter his inevitable rejection flew out of her mind as she found only love and acceptance in his arms. She kissed him back passionately, unable to stop a delighted laugh from escaping her lips.

From that moment on, they never spent another night apart. And on their wedding day, one little brunette maid earned some extra cash as the other two finally conceded that Gwendal's love of small, cute things did not apply to his actual love life. Everyone was happy for them - especially Greta, because Uncle Gwendal promised to work on getting her a little cousin before the year was out. Life was good.

Fin

**Whatcha think? Any good? Happy? Disappointed? Why cheese? R&R peeps! Love to all!!!**


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